Martha Jones and Mickey Smith
by charlie1902
Summary: How Mickey and Martha found love
1. The Hook

Title: Martha Jones and Mickey Smith

Author: charlie1902  
Fandoms: Doctor Who

Genre: Romance  
Rating: K+

Warning: None

Spoilers: None  
Summery: How Mickey and Martha found love

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters you recognise but do own the ones you don't. This is my way of loving them.

Prologue

"The Doctor! He's real? I didn't really believe you!" the speaker was stunned into blurting out the unwelcome truth,

"You didn't really believe me?" the repeated words were surprised and filled with hurt,

"Well no," sudden and indignant impatience coloured the reply,

"You just … thought I was making it up? Or lying?" Now the tone had taken on a dangerous edge,

"Not … wise mate," the gasped words from a third source were ignored,

"I thought it was a story or an in-family sort of … joke," hesitant and weary but now a self-righteous anger was emerging

"A joke!" like a war cry the words reverberated around the enclosed space and all movement suddenly halted.

Martha was staring at Tom with such emotion he looked away unexplainable feelings of shame sweeping through him. The moment lingered on until it was interrupted;

"Err guys I'm still b…bleeding," stuttering and shocked; Mickey lay in the arguing couples hallway a gooey thick yellow slime clashing with blood red stains on his shredded green army outfit. One hand was still on the trigger of a very large gun resting to the side of him and a black rucksack squashed tightly under him. A pool of blood was growing underneath him. . .


	2. The Story

Story

Martha had answered the door five minutes ago and Mickey had barely taken one step inside before sliding down the cream-coloured wall leaving a thick smear of blood behind. Quick to react Martha had screamed for her fiancé to bring her their overly-large medical kit and after closing the front door she had knelt by his side. After fetching the medical kit Tom too had knelt and had starting asking numerous questions:

"Who is this? Why does he have a gun? What happened? What is that yellow stuff? Why didn't he go straight to hospital? What is the gun for?"

He might have continued but a yellow blob had suddenly appeared from under Mickey and lunged in his direction. Mickey fired his very large gun which led to the squishy blob exploding all over the hallway. Martha had uttered a surprised but soft,

"Oh my god," while Tom had shrieked and fallen on his rear after trying to back away,

"How'd you know where to find me?" Martha had asked Mickey tactfully to allow her lover a moment to compose himself. She had already assessed Mickey's condition and started pressing gauze on where she had seen blood still oozing.

"Been keeping an … an eye on you," Mickey had said without shame or embarrassment and Martha had been duly touched.

"I can take care of myself," she had said to Mickey's amusement. After a slow recovery Tom had moved forward to help Martha, despite staring at the massive gun wearily,

"I know that – the doc…doctor wouldn't have gone off with y…you if…if you couldn't,"

"No he wouldn't have." Martha spoke with such fondness Tom was snapped out of his shock,

"The doctor?" he repeated with a question,

"He's the one I told you about? He saved the world after the master took over." That had been what caused Tom's ill-thought out burst.

The two doctors re-focused on their patient and he was soon resting in their crowded spare bedroom. Tom had been sent to get additional supplies from UNIT while Martha stayed by Mickey's' bedside. She was worried his low blood volume would send him into shock but he seemed to be alright for now. As she fussed over him she filled him in on what she had been doing since they had parted almost a year ago. To Mickey's amusement this mostly involved her growing irritation with her work.

"It's like when I first started … they listened to me because I had travelled with the doctor. I was … I don't know respected you know? But now … I tell them all the time guns and violence are not always the only solution." She glanced down to where her patient still had his gun by his side,

"Don't get me wrong I'm not a pacifist: not after everything I've seen and done but UNIT still thinks the sole solution to every problem is to shoot it or blow it up."

"Is…isn't it…it?" Mickey breathed out the question waiting for the painkillers to kick in,

"How can you say that: you travelled with the Doctor! You saw how much good he does without any weapons!"

"I've seen how many p…people die while he finds a solution," Mickey says gravely,

"So you think he should just go around the universe shooting every alien that ever gets in his way?" Martha looked down at him in surprised dismay,

"Of course not but sometimes fighting is the only choice,"

"The Doctor disagrees," Martha said weakly. She couldn't help but think about how different her life, her family and she would be if the Doctor had just shot the Master when they had first landed on the valiant.

"What do you think?"

"I watched the Doctor almost commit suicide because he couldn't let go of his ideals. If it wasn't for some egotistic millionaire genius he'd have died." She looked at Mickey with watery eyes,

"He knew the Sontarans would never give in but he still had to go and give them a chance."

"That impressed you," Mickey said resignedly,

"Yes but it infuriated me as well: that he can be so reckless with his own life."

"He'd be alright, he's got the regeneration thing," Mickey remained bitter at how easily the Doctor and Rose risked her life.

"It's not a guarantee! If he had been on that ship when it exploded he wouldn't have survived." Martha had raised her voice in passionate anger but Mickey started grinning,

"What?"

"You remind me of Rose," Martha blinked unsure of how to react. After meeting Rose, Martha had let go of her feelings of jealousy and inadequacy and had been saddened to see her parted from the Doctor again. After a long pause Martha decided to take Mickey's words as a compliment: he thought the world of Rose.

"Thanks, the Doctor saw that in me too." Alright she had mostly let go of feeling inadequacy. Mickey frowned, well versed in feeling second best,

"The doc didn't travel with you just cause you're like Rose." Martha choked out a self-deprecating laugh,

"I know I saved his life."

The conversation was getting too personal for Martha and she pulled back emotionally and physically. Getting off the bed and walking over to the dark blue curtains she stared out the window. When she had bought this house (she paid the mortgage, Tom paid the bills) she had thought distantly that this room would be their child's room. Things were not going to plan though – the couple argued, a lot and he wasn't even in the country most of the time. And now he had admitted he thought she had made up the story of the Doctor and her year of hell. He had been at her mother's house for dinner; he had seen her brake down after spilling a pot of stew, seen her father erupt in anger when a football match he wanted to watch on TV was postponed. What did he think of her and her family if he thought she had lied?

Mickey remained quiet he had not realised how alike Martha and he were: both convinced the Doctor had settled for their company. They had also both realised they were better than that and left. In very different directions admittedly but they had left the Doctor.

"Sarah Jane got married did you know?" Mickey asked realising Martha was uncomfortable,

"Got an invite but there was this . . . work got in the way," Martha turned back to smile at Mickey.

"Yea I couldn't make it either I was trying stop an alien assassin hunting this family of refugee aliens living up in Manchester. Good people pillars of the community weird as that sounds."

"Mickey Smith the defender of innocent aliens?"

"I like the sound of that!" Mickey was beginning to feel the effects of the pain killers and they were making him a little loopy and a lot sleepy.

"Sounds like a plot for a movie. The lone hero takes on an evil assassin!"

"Yea well it wasn't a big enough threat for UNIT and nothing to benefit Torchwood so that family was left to die and they came here thinking they'd be safe."

"You saved them though … all by yourself," Martha was clearly impressed and wondered when the last time the work she did had made a real difference – there were plenty of qualified people that could do her job. Martha and Mickey stared directly into each others eyes and for a long intense moment emotions were heightened and openly visible.

"I could come with you next time," Martha suddenly blurted out. There was another long pause as they both evaluated what she had said and examined how they felt about the idea.

"Maybe … that's not such a good idea," Mickey said. How the young man felt about Martha had suddenly become clear to him but like with Rose he wanted Martha to be safe and happy; she had a good life: a well-paid job, a fiancé, an expansive home near her family – what would she have if she shared his life?

Martha looked down at her engagement ring and then around the office/spare bedroom what she thought might still be a baby room,

"You're probably right. Promise you'll call if you ever need a doctor though right?"

"Course if you promise you'll call if you find an innocent alien who needs a defender?"

"I promise,"

The two planet protectors shared a smile before Mickey wriggled down into the bedcovers and fell almost instantly asleep. Martha watched over him, sat in a comfortable desk chair.

When he woke three hours later Tom had still not returned home. Martha had been growing ever angrier with her fiancé, Mickey needed those supplies. He thought otherwise and was half out the bed in an attempt to leave before Martha could react,

"Oy you're staying right there mister!"

"I'm fine Martha you patched me up as good as new!"

"You're along way from fine so Stay In Bed!" Martha ordered as she ran round to stop Mickey getting out of bed the other side. She easily beat him as his head started to spin.

"Maybe I will," he said and his words reverberated around his suddenly aching head.

"The pain killers have worn off I'll get you some more," Martha said quietly as she pulled the duvet up and around her patient.

"I don't want to be any trouble." He said pressing one hand into his head where it was hurting.

"Nonsense those are some serious injuries." She was routing around in the first aid bag as Mickey abruptly broke into a sweat and wrapped his other arm around his stitches.

"Maybe you're right," he said and groaned curling into a ball.

"Hang on … got it," Martha raced back to the bed and injected Mickey with some morphine. She held his hand as he slowly uncurled and relaxed as the drug numbed his pain again. He sighed,

"Can't all be like Captain Cheesecake," he said with bits of envy, yearning and bitterness.

"Wouldn't want to be," Martha said and when Mickey looked surprised at the fierceness of her reply she continued,

"Everything has its time and place." She said quoting the 'cheesecake' himself,

"Very philo…osophical of you," he said yawning,

"Go back to sleep and I'll be here when you wake up."

"You don't … have … have to." Mickey was more asleep now than awake when he added,

"But I would love you to be . . ."

When he next woke he could see a near empty blood bag and he could hear Martha and Tom arguing in the hall. He dozed comfortably letting the angry buzz of their words flow over him. Suddenly Martha's tone changed to pained and his attention was caught by the pain in her words,

"You've only just got back … we're supposed to be planning our wedding!"

"It's important to me; I thought it was to you too. But you're too busy with that job of yours. You said you would come with me to Sudan but your work sent you to New York, much more glamorous." His voice was bitter,

"I was helping to save the entire planet, the whole universe Tom. I've always agreed you're work was important but you never acknowledge mine is too!"

"It always sounds like such a fantasy – saving the universe!" Mickey was angered by the scorn in Tom's voice.

"I don't understand if you never believed me … about the doctor … about my job what did you think of me?" there was a long pause,

"Tom?"

"I guess I thought you were a little crazy." He said so low that Mickey almost missed it. The confession spurred him to try to get up again. There was no way Martha would not be devastated at the confession.

"Get Out," she said firmly and loudly,

"Martha I'm sorry, you have to admit it's hard to believe?"

"I trusted you! I told you everything! And you thought I was CRAZY!" Martha was crying now, Mikey could hear it in her voice. He was standing by the edge of the bed one hand holding himself upright.

"Even with all this alien weirdness on the news it's hard to picture YOU involved."

"And why is that?" Martha's question was strong and dangerous,

"Well you're hardly Wonder Woman, more like the woman next door" the humorous answer didn't hold any malice and Tom seemed to realise how bad it sounded because he rushed to add,

"That's what I like about you – you're normal and everyday and eas . . ." he stopped himself quickly,

"Easy! Is that what you were going to say?" Martha shouted now and Mickey was urgently trying to remain on his feet after letting go of the bed.

"Easy to love!" Tom said miserably and then again with longing,

"You're so easy to love." There was silence as Mickey finally steadied his feet and stepped forward. He paused Tom sounded so much in love and so very keen to keep Martha happy. Mickey waited to see if Martha could forgive and forget – if she could still be happy with him.

"You thought I was crazy and a liar for our entire relationship and I'm just supposed to forgive you? I loved you!" despite her pain Martha's voice was unwavering.

"I thought all that about you AND I still loved you!" Mickey stood waiting by the door, amazed by how Tom could turn this around and act like he was the injured party.

"I asked you to leave!" Martha said tiredly,

"NO!" Tom shouted and there was a thumping sound as Mickey hurriedly opened the door. Tom was staring at Martha in horror while she was staring back in shock. Tom had pushed her sharply backwards and she had landed against the doorframe of the master bedroom.

"Martha I'm sorry, I didn't mean too! Are you hurt? I want us to work this out!" neither of them seemed to notice Mickey as he stayed in the doorframe one hand clutching a small hand gun out of sight. He waited now sure Martha would make the right decision,

"There is no us, not anymore, and I asked you to leave!" anger and panic crossed Tom's face and he stepped forward – right into Mickey and his gun.

"She asked you to leave!" Mickey spoke with a calm he didn't feel.

Tom flinched back from the gun but his angst steadied his fear.

"There's no need for that I just … I want to make things right!" It had truly been a mistake to push Martha – an action Tom would never have thought himself capable of. He was a doctor, for god's sake, he nursed children abused by their parents, consoled them and encouraged them to speak to the police. How had he gone from a caring family doctor to a bully, an abuser? Tom's mind stuttered over the terms and they made him feel ill – all anger had fled, he was numb and cold and yet terrified of what he had done.

Martha easily read the confusion in his eyes. She understood then that he wasn't truly the man who had been shot trying to save her – that was a different Tom, one who had lived through that terrible year of hell. That brave Tom didn't exist anymore. And this Tom, though he was kind and noble – going to dangerous depressing places to care for people most ignored but the bond she had, had within moments of meeting the first Tom didn't exist with this one. This one had no experience of aliens and there was a connection missing. A connection Martha had with Captain Jack, with her parents and sister and even with Mickey. It was something she suddenly found she needed. It went deeper than any shared experiences – it was an understanding Martha thought, perhaps too generously, that Tom had lashed out because he had suddenly became aware of how different they were, how hazardous a life she actually led. She was convinced he would never react the same way in any other situation it was just her and this massive part of her life he had no comprehension of. In that instant she forgave him but she couldn't forget – violence of any sort was never accepted, not by any of her family and friends.

"Take care of yourself and keep in contact yeah?" Martha said and Tom relaxed. Not understanding her forgiveness but realising he had it, feelings of self-hatred that had been building eased. He smiled faintly and asked feebly,

"What do I do now?"

"Be a brilliant doctor; save lives and make people better."

"Speak to someone about your anger management problem." Mickey added with bite. He had lowered his gun but had not relaxed like the other two. Tom glanced at him and accepted his words,

"I don't want to be that person – I can't be that person!" he said trails of fear catching in his throat,

"Easier said than done," Mickey snapped back.

"It's all right Mickey, Tom isn't, and this life it's a lot to take in. It was a mistake – one not to be repeated." Martha's voice held a warning and Tom physically 'felt' it. He closed his eyes and pictured one of his past patients – a starved beaten nine-year-old boy. He held that image, that child's deadened eyes and vowed never again. Opening them he repeated his vow aloud and Martha understood.

As Tom walked down the stairs he wondered about Martha and whether she would be all right. But then he heard Martha helping Mickey back to their … her spare bed, listened as she chided him for getting out of bed and noted the concern as Mickey asked if she was all right. He heard new but unabashed love in their voices he knew – just knew she was going to be FANTASTIC!

Authors Note (_never done one of these before … feels weird and yet totally cool_) I had no control over how that story ended what so ever! I had heard about stories that write themselves but to experience it was something else. Hopefully it was believable (_and readable_). I know Tom was a hero in the episode and I didn't turn him evil I guess my subconscious was wrestling with the eternal question: how do good guys go bad?


End file.
